


The Green Eyed Angel

by ranguvar82



Series: Silence and Strength [23]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Jealous Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: It's not Crowley's fault. It isn't as though he asked to be created as the most gorgeous creature in existence. That still doesn't mean Aziraphale has to like it when others notice that.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Silence and Strength [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630903
Comments: 6
Kudos: 198





	The Green Eyed Angel

The Green Eyed Angel

It honestly isn’t Crowley’s fault. It’s not as though he asked to be the most breathtakingly gorgeous creature God ever made. And Aziraphale knows, logically, that others would notice how beautiful he is, even with the scars, and want to...get acquainted.

But that does NOT mean he has to like the idea. In fact, he downright HATES it. Hates it whenever someone looks at his demon, his spouse in THAT way. That sappy, moon eyes way. (The fact that he pretty much constantly looks at Crowley that exact same way is irrelevant, thank you very much.) Hates it when they sidle up to him, Intent clearly written on their faces, and hates it even worse when they ignore him, dismiss him as unimportant.

The first time it happened was in Rome, at Petronius’ restaurant. The slave boy that brought them the oysters had been very young and handsome, and had actually _batted his lashes_ at Crowley. Aziraphale, who up until then had been focused on how lovely the oysters looked, had felt a surge of anger at the sight. He had dismissed the boy with a curt growl of thanks, pretending not to notice the wicked smirk on Crowley’s face. ‘Jealous, angel?’

Aziraphale glared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m an angel. We do not get jealous.” Crowley rolled his eyes, and Aziraphale grabbed a wine bottle, swallowing half of it in one gulp. He was far, far too sober for this. Crowley grinned, and Aziraphale snarled, then grabbed a fist full of his toga and yanked him into a hard kiss. “MINE.” He growled against the demon’s surprisingly soft lips, and Crowley nodded. “Don’t like it when others look at you...” Aziraphale mumbled, staring at the oysters. “Least, not like that...” Crowley’s grin got wider.

The next time it happened, in a tavern in Brussels in 1822, Aziraphale only stopped himself from smiting the mortal because it really would have been overkill. But REALLY! The very fact that she had actually had the gall to try to TOUCH HIS DEMON. His only comfort was that Crowley had been quite adamant in their refusal, and that the tavern was full of willing mortals. Aziraphale had tossed some coin to the bartender before dragging a smirking demon upstairs to an empty room, tossing him inside and slamming the door behind them. “MINE.” Aziraphale’s eyes were dark, and Crowley shivered. The angel stalked forward, yanking his demon into a passionate kiss. “MINE.” Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s chest and SHOVED, sending them flying across the room to land in a heap of limbs on the bed. He joined them, removing their clothes with a snap of his fingers. “Now...” Aziraphale growled, his voice making Crowley shiver, “I am going to remind you just who it is you belong to.” He ran his hand down Crowley’s chest. “You are MY demon, Crowley.”

Crowley could only keen in agreement.

(But he isn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous. He’s just...protective. He doesn’t want his demon hurt any more than he already is.

He feels his blood boil whenever he notices someone else watching Crowley’s sinfully hypnotic hips swivel. But he’s not jealous. He despises it whenever a mortal tries to invade Crowley’s personal space(but at least then Crowley looks distinctly uncomfortable). But he’s not jealous.)

It got worse when he had the shop. Crowley was there nearly all the time, and the number of customers that thought it was acceptable to...flirt with him seemed to skyrocket every time. Aziraphale, who already disliked customers to begin with, found himself actively wishing he could shove his Sword down their throats. One man, a horrid person wearing far too much leather, had actually trapped Crowley against the counter, leering at her. The next thing he knew, he was on his back in the middle of the street, and Aziraphale was comforting a very distressed demon.

Granted, the comfort consisted of taking her up to his small flat and gently reminding her that he was the only one allowed to touch her(and touch her he did, much to the satisfaction of both of them), but it helped to ease the roaring beast inside.

Now, in their cottage in the Downs, they lay together, limbs tangled up in each other and wings out. Crowley ran his hand up and down Aziraphale’s primaries, making the angel shiver. ‘I did it on purpose, you know.’

“Hmm? Did what, my love?”

Crowley smirked like, well, a demon. ‘Let all those mortals flirt with me over the years.’

Aziraphale gaped at him. “YOU WOT?!”

Grinning, Crowley nodded ‘What, you think I didn’t know that my angel has a jealous streak a thousand miles wide? Dove, you used to burn holes in the other angel’s backs whenever they so much as looked in my direction.’

“That’s not...I never…!”

‘Angel, you once threatened to punch Haniel in the face because they were telling me how much they loved my singing.’

“They were SIMPERING at you! That is...”

‘Your job?’

“Yes! I mean, NO!” Aziraphale glared at the grinning demon. “Oh, you are impossible! Why do that?”

Crowley smirked. ‘Because the outcome was always so...enjoyable. Did I ever tell you that you are downright HOT when you let your jealous side come out?’

Aziraphale growled, then lunged, pinning Crowley beneath him. “Well….you are MINE, after all.”

Crowley keened as Aziraphale once more staked his claim.


End file.
